


Reliving Nightmares

by immxrtalbi



Series: We're Not in Hogwarts Anymore [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dimension Travel, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feelings, Light Angst, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, muggle!Tom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:14:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25171459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immxrtalbi/pseuds/immxrtalbi
Summary: "Then why do I still make you scream?" Then Voldemort touched Harry's scar on his forehead, causing Harry to cry in agony. It felt like he was struck with crucio.'Stop it, stop it, stop it! Please!'Then Harry was awakened by someone shaking him. By the same man who made his life a living hell."You were crying in your sleep—" Tom didn't have a chance to finish as Harry pushed him away like a maniac.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Series: We're Not in Hogwarts Anymore [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1790677
Comments: 6
Kudos: 239





	Reliving Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> someone is developing feelings *wink wink* sorry it's short. this came to me this morning. I have other stuff planned but have to figure out how to turn it into a story haha

Tom's eyes never left the dishes that were cleaning themselves. It had been four days since he found out about magic and it still in made him speechless. Harry often chuckled at his expressions. Nothing like the Dursleys.

"No wonder you finished so quickly. You've been cheating," Tom said with a tsk.

"You never said anything about using magic." His eyes twinkled. The last dish was put away in the cabinet after it had been dried. "And done! Now I can do as I please."

Tom snorted. "What do you usually do?"

"Walk around the city. Go to the park in front of this place. Mainly wander around." Harry shrugged and flopped down on the couch, as if he owned the place. His legs extended and his arms behind his head, pleased.

Instead of being bothered, Tom was amused. If it were anyone else… they'd be thrown in the street by now.

"How come you didn't work today?" Harry asked. "Not that I don't like you being here but I'm used to you being away all day." Tom never had time off. He's always working like a workaholic.

"I can go to work if I choose to or not," he answered simply, "since I'm the boss in my own company."

"Any particular reason you're here then?"

"Is it wrong to give my guest company?" Tom's voice lingered with fake sweetness.

Harry rolled his eyes before closing them. "I don't do much. You're likely to get bored." He yawned and folded his arms on his chest. A nap sounded good right about now. Harry had trouble sleeping last night; recurring nightmares from the war. It hadn't been this bad before. He wondered if it was because he was seeing a different version of Tom.

Before he drifted to sleep he felt warmth covering him from chest to toes.

Cold laugher echoed through his dreams. Blurry images of Voldemort appearing. Harry running away, calling out for his parents, his friends, anybody. Even Dumbledore _. Someone save me!_ he screamed.

The elder wand in Voldemort's hand casting curses towards him. _No! This isn't real!_

Harry cried and shook his head. This couldn't be real. _He's gone. He's dead_. He covered his ears and thought about happy memories. Happy thoughts. Anything. It wasn't working.

"You'll never be rid of me, boy," Voldemort vowed, walking towards him, arm raised.

 _You're dead! I killed you_ , Harry roared.

"Then why do I still make you scream?" Then Voldemort touched Harry's scar on his forehead, causing Harry to cry in agony. It felt like he was struck with crucio.

_Stop it, stop it, stop it! Please!_

Then Harry was awakened by someone shaking _him_. By the same man who made his life a living hell.

"You were crying in your sleep—" Tom didn't have a chance to finish as Harry pushed him away like a maniac.

"Get away from me!" He pulled out his wand, chest heaving.

Tom froze, then raised his hands in the air. "Easy, Harry. It's me, remember? You were having a nightmare. A bad one," he said it in a soft voice. "I was only trying to help."

" _Help_! Hah!" Harry's wand directed towards Tom, who still held his ground. "You don't help anyone but yourself, Voldemort!"

Tom raised an eyebrow, and with one question it made Harry lower his wand and apologize. "Who's Voldemort?"

"I'm so sorry, Tom! I thought—My dream—" Harry covered his face with his hands, horrified of what he had done. What he had wanted to do. He was close to blasting this Tom with a killing curse. He could've killed an innocent person.

"It's fine. Sit down. I'll make you tea. You seem tense."

Harry did. His hands trembling, even as he put his wand away. He shut his eyes and felt more tears fall down his cheeks. Tom was right. He had been crying in his sleep since he felt dried tears as he wiped his face with the palm of his hand.

"Here." Tom handed him a mug. Harry took it with both shaky hands, careful not to spill.

"Thanks. And sorry for… you know." He hung his head in shame.

"An explanation will make me forgive you," Tom requested. Truth was he wasn't mad about it. He had been threatened throughout his career. What Harry did was nothing—although he would use this to his advantage to find out more about him.

Harry hesitated, but nodded. "There was this man, very bad man, who always wanted to kill me. Tried to when I was a baby—"

"What the fuck?" Tom interrupted.

"Story of my life…" Harry forced a chuckle. "He had been dead for years. But I still see him in my dreams—Well, nightmares. Always tormenting me. Making me suffer." Without realizing, he had touched his lightning bolt scar.

Tom noticed.

"Did he give you that scar?"

Harry swallowed but nodded.

"The nightmares have never been this bad. But now they are. I have to cast a silencing spell so you don't hear me," Harry confessed. Ever since he'd arrived in this dimension, it's worse than ever.

Tom glared at Harry and shook his head. "I'm angry that you kept this to yourself. I could've helped you by providing you sleeping pills." He should ban magic from his home if Harry was going to do it discreetly.

"Tried that. Didn't work. My friends used to do something that would help me but…"

"What?" Tom demanded.

"It's bloody embarrassing, okay?" Harry's cheeks turned pink. He sipped his warm tea so he wouldn't have to answer, but Tom was waiting for his answer with a scowl. "They would hug me while I slept, happy now? Holding onto to me and letting me know that I was safe. It was comforting."

Tom seemed like he wanted to laugh judging by his lips twitching. "You all sound like children."

"Well, that's because we all grew up too fast," he replied with bitterness. Harry stared at his reflection from inside the mug, looking at his older face. He wasn't a child now. Now he's a broken older man.

It got quiet suddenly. Only sound was Harry's small slurps from his drink.

"There's still a lot you're not telling me, I can tell. But I won't press for now." Harry was grateful. The conversation made him feel more anxious as it was. "How about we watch movies? It's barely afternoon."

With a small smile, Harry said, "Only if I pick the movies."

"Just for today," Tom agreed.

They sat by each other and watched thriller movies Harry had chosen. The day went by faster, and before they both knew it, it was dark outside. The ending credits of the movie played quietly.

Tom yawned and ran his hand through his black hair. "You picked dull movies," he said, turning his head. "I expected you to—" His voice died down as he saw Harry asleep on his shoulder, practically leaning on him. How come Tom didn't feel it? When had he fallen asleep?

Harry's snores were light. He even snores like a child, Tom thought, almost fondly. As he was about to make his escape he remembered Harry's words: _They would hug me while I slept. Holding onto to me and letting me know that I was safe. It was comforting._

Tom was debating on just leaving Harry to sleep on the couch while he went to his own bedroom. But he couldn't do it. He didn't like when Harry was crying from his nightmare. It didn't suit him. Harry's smiles _almost_ made Tom want to do the same. Luckily, he was good at keeping his emotions in check.

Tom eyed the scar—it wasn't covered by Harry's fringe this time—wondering about the monster who hurt this younger man. He gritted his teeth and ignored the sudden anger he was feeling.

Wrapping an arm gently around his shoulder, Harry stirred but didn't wake up, instead he shifted closer to Tom, seemingly enjoying the warmth.

Harry had no nightmares that night.


End file.
